


Uncle Nanu Just Wants A Predictable Life

by Penbomb



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series)
Genre: Age Difference, M/M, Masturbation, Sexual Frustration, Size Difference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-14
Updated: 2016-12-14
Packaged: 2018-09-08 12:19:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8844778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Penbomb/pseuds/Penbomb
Summary: Some Guzma/Nanu I started at /guz/'s behest. Because it's objectively the best ship. Uncle Nanu just wants to enjoy a quiet life, but the strapping young leader of Team Skull invites himself in and makes the otherwise predictably stormy night a lot more steamy.





	

Nanu opened the blinds of his shack wearily. Rain. Rain rain, always rain. What else did he expect. Nothing really changed around here, for better or worse. It was shitty and predictable, just the way he liked it. 

“Meeeeeee,” a dark gray Meowth butted against the old man's leg, rubbing its face against him idly before plopping down in front of him. With a weary grunt Nanu bent down to give the cat a little rub behind the ears. 

A sudden knock at the door almost startled him, almost but not quite. He hadn't been genuinely surprised by anything in many long years. It could only be so many people. It was too late at night to be the captain, and he would have gotten a call if it was kahuna business. That only left – 

“Heeeeey, it's ya boy!” a voice screamed into the door with another round of vicious knocking. Nanu sighed and wearily opened the door to reveal the sopping wet 'leader' of the local 'gang'. He was soaked all the way through his usually baggy clothes and the tangled mop of hair normally styled up was plastered down against his face with water. Still, despite his rather disheveled appearance he wore the same wild, cocky grin as always. “Ay, you gonna invite me in or what?”

“What do you want,” Nanu asked, though the delivery, devoid of any inflection made it sound more like a statement than a question. His deadpan stare and stiff posture were anything but welcoming to his late night visitor. 

“I WANT to come in, it's wet out here yo,” Guzma insisted as he pushed past the elderly cop and invited himself inside the police station. “Thanks man, any longer and I would have melted,” the soggy young man said as he threw himself on the couch. 

Nanu sighed and shut the door, now having no choice but to put up with the pest until it got bored and left. “You're getting everything wet.” 

“Yeah, happens when you're locked out of your pad in the middle of a storm,” Guzma defended himself with a huff.

“At least take off your wet clothes before you sprawl over everything,” Nanu grunted and moved towards the back of the station. There was probably something in the kid's size in the lost and found box. No one had come looking for any of this garbage in years, so it was probably safe to give it away.

Nanu picked the box of old rags up and turned back to face the youth, only to find him already making headway on 'getting out of those wet clothes'. He shrugged off his jacket and tossed it at the door then began unfastening his pants. 'This kid sure isn't shy' the old man thought to himself, but it really wasn't any of his business. 

“Here,” he dropped the box on the damp couch where the boy had been sitting. “There's probably something your—“

Guzma stood up as he dropped his pants, shaking them off and adding them to the wet pile of discarded clothes. Nanu never realized how tall the youth was. He was always slouched or squatting on the ground, that or Nanu never really cared enough to notice how huge he actually was. It was never any of his business. Not until now at least. “I've probably got a towel somewhere,” he muttered instead.

“Thanks old man,” Guzma said as he struggled with his top. The tank seemed like it was already probably a size too small for him, the added water didn't make it any easier. He yanked it up over his head and after a couple minutes of squirming managed to escape the cloth's confines. Little beads of water dripped from his hair onto his neck and shoulders, dribbling down his now bare chest and abs before vanishing under the band of his boxer shorts. And below that a prominent—

“You havin' a stroke old man?” Nanu didn't realize he'd been staring so intently until he felt a questioning gaze on him. 

“Don't get cocky kid,” the kahuna said flatly. “Just get your dry clothes and get out once the storm's gone.”

“Yeah yeah,” Guzma waved a hand dismissively, flops back on the couch, and pulls the box of discarded clothing into his lap. He paws through the various worn articles of clothing, grimacing at them. “Yo, these threads are whack,” he shoves the box off his lap with a stubborn huff. “You ain't got anything else?”

“If you don't like it you can go naked then,” Nanu said dismissively and excused himself to his own half-made couch bed. He flicked off the lights, turned on the small TV sitting on the coffee table and laid back with a weary grunt.

Despite his best efforts to put it out of his mind, he kept thinking about his 'guest'. That firm, hard body, full of youth and potential. Maybe he was just jealous. He wanted those things that time had robbed him of. If the outline on those skull patterned underpants was anything to go by, the youngster might have a few other things on his elder as well. 

Growing irritated, Nanu unbuttoned his pants, leaning up slightly to catch a peak of his visitor. It seemed as if Guzma was already asleep, sprawled haphazardly across the couch in the most ungraceful fashion. One of the Meowth seemed to have already taken a liking to him and was curled up into a ball, dozing on the young man's chest. 

Assured he was in the clear, Nanu began to subtly stroke himself. He thought about that young body, those etched muscles, and all those things he couldn't have or gave up on. Frustration, arousal, whatever it was it made him rock hard, and it was all his self control not to make a noise as he subtly jerked one out. His breathing hitched up as his body tensed and he emptied himself into his hand. 

With a weary groan he grabbed the newspaper off the table and wiped his hand off before balling it up and chucking it towards the trash. He couldn't even last as long as he use to. More frustrated than ever the old cop rolled over and willed himself to sleep, to put this whole obnoxious night behind him.

**Author's Note:**

> ((an: Intended to be part 1 of 2, but posted as is for now, since I moved on to another project. Might come back and finish when I have some free time!))


End file.
